


of perfectionism and pride

by arcadianwriter (noxstories)



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Changing yourself for others, More TBA as I write, Perfectionism, Pride! Roman, Roman as Pride being Mean, Self-Hatred, Spoilers For Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, Sympathetic Deceit, Uhh narcissism??, but then his motives are explained, i meaN he’s an ass at first, losing oneself, sue me I love him, yes it’s another Pride! Roman fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxstories/pseuds/arcadianwriter
Summary: There were three things that Roman was sure of. Three things that did not change, three things that could not change, three things that, should they manage to change, would destroy the natural order of his life and everything he thought himself to be.Number one: Roman was creativity. Of that he was sure. He might only be one half of it, but he was the main source of creativity for Thomas and his videos nonetheless, and he took pride in his job.Number two: his best creation to date (save from Thomas’ videos) was the Sherlock book he wrote for Logan.And number three, the most important rule? Roman was the good side of creativity, and Remus was the bad.————In which Roman is good, until he isn’t, and the others pick up the broken pieces of Pride.





	1. chapter i

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tumblr Post: Pride!Roman](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/499018) by @doyouhowdont, @yee-ceit. 



> Hi, and welcome to another Pride! Roman fic!! Despite Remus being introduced I still love Pride a lot,, so here he is in canon compliant settings!!  
> For now, I’m putting my other story, my Choose Your Own Ending Sanders Sides AU, on a brief hiatus until the end of July, as I’m writing my own novel for Camp Nano this July, though as soon as I’m finished ‘of drama and decisions’ will have more regular updates!!  
> Thank you for reading, and please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!!

There were three things that Roman was sure of. Three things that _did not_ change, three things that _could not_ change, three things that, should they _manage_ to change, would destroy the natural order of his life and everything he thought himself to be.

Number one: Roman was Creativity. Of that he was sure. He might only be one half of it, but he was the main source of creativity for Thomas and his videos nonetheless, and he took pride in his job.

Number two: his best creation to date (save from Thomas’ videos, of course) was the Sherlock book he wrote for Logan. It had taken him days and days, eyes burning with exhaustion and fingers trembling with anticipation for its finish, but he’d done it, and Logan had loved it. Even if they weren’t exactly on the best of terms now, Roman could never forget the look on Logan’s face when presented with the gift. There had been something about the starry emotion in the other’s eyes that had put a smile on his face even in his darkest of times, and that kind of gratitude from Logan wasn’t taken lightly by Roman at all.

And number three, the most important rule? Roman was the good side of Creativity, and Remus was the bad.

These three truths of Roman’s, however illogical the third might have been, kept him right. They kept him focused and diligent to his duty, kept him stable.

The third truth was what sent Roman rushing to his en-suite to scrub at his hands as soon as the video ended and he was able to duck out.

His head throbbed, a full sort of thudding that made everything swim around him, and he couldn’t quite tell whether that was due to the concussion he was certain his twin had given him (who let Remus have weapons anyway?!), or his own thoughts, swirling round and round his brain. He rubbed at his hands fervently, itching to get them clean, clean, cleaner than before and cleaner than Remus’ could ever hope to be. He was the opposite of his brother, his very antithesis, and so if Remus was dirty and crass? Roman would make himself pure and clean, abstain from activities that could lead to mess or dirt sullying his clothes or skin. A shudder, deep and old, made its way across his back, and when Roman glanced in the mirror, his heart skipped a beat to see the glint of green in his outfit.

Closing his eyes tightly until stars appeared in his vision, Roman prayed that he’d been mistaken. Overwhelming relief crashed down when he opened them again, to reveal himself standing there, looking lost and frightened, with nothing but gold, white and red around him. Taking a breath, he steered himself to enter his room again from his bathroom, lingering by the door for the smallest fraction of a second before opening it.

The door moved aside to reveal his room, decked out much like that of a prince’s room — a large bed, grand red wallpaper with elegant gold trimmings decorating it, and with literal sparkles in the air. Behind his bed was a window (fake, of course) that usually showed beautiful gardens and a bright sun. Right now, however, the garden seemed wilted, and the sun had disappeared behind dark rain clouds.

Because then Roman reluctantly looked further to the other side of the room, past the magical barrier he’d put there to separate the room, to Remus’ side of their shared room. Messy and dirty, he could practically smell it from where he was standing, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. Clothes and trash littered the floor, and— was that blood on the wall?! Roman could feel a headache coming on, and he pinched the bridge of his nose to ward it off.

He’d sensed Remus’ restlessness for some time now, but hadn’t thought anything of it. Hadn’t thought Deceit would actually let his brother reveal himself... Roman was supposed to be the protector of the Mindscape; how could he have missed this? He _had_ been rather preoccupied lately: exhausted creatively, from coming up with video ideas, exhausted physically, from quests he’d been on, and exhausted mentally from doing his best to be nicer to the other sides (“pump the _brakes_ , Princey!”). Still, that didn’t excuse his tardiness. Truth number one was that Roman was Creativity, and this meant doing his job right.

Why did it have to be _Roman_ with an evil twin? It wasn’t fair. For years and years, ever since their split, Roman had been the best he could be – friendly, charming, prince-like, brave, charismatic: all things that Remus was so evidently not. So why was it Roman, the epitome of all things Disney and romance and creativity, forced to put up with such a wreck of a brother?!

These thoughts were rude, even cruel, and whispered in his head with a dark slithering voice that wasn’t quite his own, but Roman considered the words he was thinking. _Could the others even see a difference between the two?_ Virgil had called him by his brother’s name once, in an argument, yes, but nonetheless it had been said. And from time to time Logan had stated that he and Remus were more similar than they knew. It bothered Roman immensely, and despite having received apologies from Virgil and Logan, something rang hollow inside of them. Did they really think he was no better than Remus? Was that what they all thought of him?

**_You should try to show them how different you are from Remus_ ** , his mind told him, in that same cruel drawl, and Roman’s eyes lit up at the idea. Of course! If he proved to the Light Sides how evident the differences were between himself and Remus, then maybe they would begin to respect his ideas more and see him as his own person more. It was a grand plan, and Roman conjured up a piece of paper and pen with a determination he hadn’t felt in a long time. With a spring back in his step and a plan underway, he felt much more at peace than he had in a while. This would be perfect. His family would soon realise their grave mistake in thinking he was anything like Remus at all! Now all he had to do was make a list of all of Remus’ traits, and... and do the opposite of all of them.

_Easy_. There was no way this could go wrong, not if he did this exactly right.

That was where everything began began going downhill. 


	2. chapter ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman makes a list, and deceit lashes out with consequences which will soon unfold.
> 
> tw: deceit, manipulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was hoping to get another chapter out today, but it won’t be until later I’m afraid!! Anyway, I quite like this chapter, and it’s full of Roman (and some Deceit) angst, so I hope y’all like that!! This is the last time we’ll see our Ro as we know him too, and I’m excited to write Pride!!  
> Deceits lies are in bold and italics, as are Roman’s.... darker thoughts (that’s all I’ll say for fear of spoilers!).  
> As always, feel free to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!

The list was longer than he expected.

Roman’s head was aching by the time he’d finished, and it was well into the early morning when his pen finally halted on the paper. Remus, despite the late hours Roman had been awake and working, was not back in his room, something that usually didn’t bother Roman, but set him on edge now. What was his brother up to? Planning something? Lying in wait, ready to hurt him again? Banishing the thoughts from his mind (though still they lingered), he squinted down at his list, conjuring more light carelessly to help him read.

**REMUS’S QUALITIES (AND THEIR OPPOSITES)**

_1\. Careless (Careful Cautious)_

_2\. Unpredictable (Predictable)_

_3\. Weird (...Normal?)_

Roman didn’t particularly like being normal, it was definitely overrated and definitely not him, but if it meant others wouldn’t see him as Remus? Then giving up a little of himself was worth it.

(The rainbow stars glowing on his ceiling dimmed a little even at this thought process.)

The list continued.

_4\. Zero standards (High standards)_

_5\. Random (Not...random?)_

_6\. Dirty/unclean (Tidy, clean, perfect)_

_7\. Violent (Non-violent)_

_8\. Messy (Neat)_

_9\. Immature (Mature)_

_10\. Childish (Adult, Sophisticated)_

_11\. Emotional (Unemotional, Cold?)_

_12\. Honest (Liar)_

_13\. Dramatic (Undramatic)_

Roman liked these last two even less. A liar _and_ undramatic? He strived hard to stop himself from lying (unless it was about his feelings and Remus, two things he did not, _could_ not, allow himself to tell the truth about), and being dramatic and extra was his Thing. It wasn’t much, but... it was what made him Roman. Logan had his intelligence, Patton had his kindness, Virgil had his wit and brooding... and Roman was the dramatic one. Who would he be, if he was stripping away some of the key elements that made him who he was? Would he even still be himself?

 ** _You’re being dramatic, Roman_** , a voice in his head told him, and Roman swallowed nervously. **_Of course you’ll be you still. Who else could you be? You just won’t be stuck with Remus’ shadow threatening your light._**

...That was true. Roman hastily circled **LIAR** and **UNDRAMATIC** as key traits to work on, and continued reading.

_14\. Wild (Reserved)_

_15\. Graceless (Elegant)_

_16\. Ignorant (Educated)_

_17. **Creative?**_

The last one brought Roman to a stop. Because for everything that Remus was, all his flaws and weaknesses, he was Creativity, just as Roman was. They were, after all, two halves from one whole. Roman represented the goodness of Creativity, whereas Remus represented the badness of it. Two sides of the same coin. Maybe he should try to break away from that mould too. _Maybe_.

Narrowing his eyes, Roman realised there were other responsibilities he had, despite his main role as Creativity. Ego, confidence, romance, and...

“ ** _Pride_**.”

The word resounded in his head, round and round, even as he spoke it aloud. _Pride_. He’d almost forgotten that duty, after all the hard work and responsibility he was putting in to Creativity and Romance at the moment. Confidence and Pride. Hmph. He hadn’t felt much of those in a while. It was clear Remus was creative, but was he any of those other things?

Romantic? Roman shuddered to think about what his brother would be like with a crush. Confident? Perhaps, but there were moments where his confidence seemed more like a fake mask. Pride? Did Remus feel pride in his work? Maybe satisfaction, or glee, but Roman could never sense any pride coming from the other.

He wrote the word down hesitantly, circling it with a question mark in dark red pen, and ignored the way his room seemed to dim as he did so.

_Pride...._

The traits Roman had to work with weren’t much at all, and certainly didn’t seem to be much fun. Frowning deeply at them, a moment of clarity crossed his mind, when he realised with a start what he was doing. Why was he doing this? He was almost certain the other sides didn’t see him as Remus! Of course they didn’t. He and Remus were quite literally black and whites of each other, chalk and cheese, good and evil. There was no way the others could mistake him for his brother. Shaking his head, and standing up with a yawn, Roman abandoned his list and shook the doubt from his mind as much as he could. He needed to eat and sleep. He hadn’t gotten much of either recently: that was no doubt where all this negativity and desire for change was coming from!

Leaving his room, Roman hummed under his breath as he walked along to the kitchen. Maybe Patton would have pancakes ready and a soft smile to ease his fears. Or Logan would be there, to dismiss his worries with facts. Or Virgil, who could offer awkward advice that was always worth more than the other side believed. Roman just needed to see another Light Side that could talk him out of his concerns, and he would be fine.

Instead, he found Deceit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled, lingering in the door of the kitchen with a disgruntled look. Deceit, in snake patterned pyjamas, turned to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Roman. You _**aren’t**_ up early.”

“I am,” Roman sighed, reluctantly stepping into the kitchen and heading to the toaster, tense and ready for action should Deceit try anything. “I’m not here for a fight, Jekyll and Lied. Simply to make myself some food, and then sLeo. What are you doing awake so early?”

“Eating,” Deceit replied, nonchalantly. “I _**don’t**_ have to do it early to avoid seeing you and the rest around. It’s **_not at all_** bothersome.”

Roman frowned for a moment, deciphering through the lies slowly. Logan had helped him for a few weeks understand Deceit’s riddles and lies, though he still struggled with them to an extent, especially learning he didn’t always speak in lies. Deceit got up early to eat so he didn’t have to eat with them? A stirring of pity rose within him. He shouldn’t have to do that. As much as the other side made him uneasy, it simply wasn’t fair to see him like this.

“If you want to eat with us, then I don’t see the harm in that,” he told Deceit, surprised. “If that’s what you’d like, then I’m sure nobody would have too many qualms.”

Deceit froze, and Roman heard his breath hitch and saw his eyes flash. He began to feel like he’d said the wrong thing, especially when he realised how vulnerable the smaller side looked in just his pyjamas and without his usual villainy. Maybe he’d been too direct? Or maybe Deceit didn’t want to sit with them at all?

“Surely you would oppose that,” Deceit replied quietly, his sing-song tone slithering back into his voice, and Roman sensed some sort of danger.

Still, he tried his best to amend the situation. “Surely was the one suggesting it, I wouldn’t have any reason to go against—“

“After all,” the dishonest side continued silkily, stepping closer and suddenly seeming a lot more intimidating in his pyjamas, “if I came to sit with you and the others, that means Remus would have to as well, now that he’s been made aware to Thomas.”

It was Roman’s turn to freeze, heart skipping a beat. Images, courtesy of his own active imagination, filling his head. Of Remus sitting down in his seat, of Remus becoming more accepted, of the mix-ups between the two of them happening more and more often, with excuses and teasing smiles of ‘ _well, you have to admit, you do act like each other...’_. He began to feel sick.

Deceit seemed to pick up on that, taking another step towards Roman, who backed into the wall, breath and words trapped deep inside his chest.

“You know what would happen then, don’t you?” Deceit asked, faux-innocently, save for that wild, cruel gleam in his eyes. “ ** _Everyone would start getting the two of you mixed up. Remus and I would become more accepted, more... Light._** You know what happens when Remus becomes more accepted, right, Roman?”

He did indeed know. He and Remus were tied together through a careful balance, a standstill — if he was one thing, Remus was the other. If his twin became more accepted, if his creativity grew stronger, then Roman would be pushed aside, more than usual. He’d be weak, useless.

Nobody had need for two Creativities, after all.

Feeling sick, Roman shook his head. “That’s... a lie,” he replied, but his voice wavered uncertainly. Even so, he tried his best to brush it off with a laugh. He saw through Deceit’s cruelty. He knew what he was doing, could see the alarm in his eyes, the mask he had up. “You’re only saying this because I invited you to breakfast with us! There’s no need—“

“Don’t assume!” Deceit snapped, before composing himself smoothly. “Don’t change the subject. _**When Remus is more accepted, you become less. Do you really think there’s room in the Light Mindscape for two of you? Something’s got to happen, something’s got to give. And you know it won’t be Remus**_ — your family seem to be big on second chances. Take Paranoia, for example—“

“ _Virgil_ ,” Roman said, heatedly, stressing the name, “is a part of our family just like I am, just like Patton and Logan are! You’re only doing this because you’re jealous. Jealous that Virgil gets to be good and you don’t, jealous that you’re not having a seat at the table. I’ll tell you something, Deceit. You’re not good like he is. You’re a bad person, and you try to get Thomas to be a bad person too! You’ll _never_ be accepted, not like we all are!”

A flicker of hurt crossed Deceit’s face, before an ugly shadow overtook the expression.

“Just heed my words, Prince,” Deceit murmured, leaning closer, and despite himself, Roman leaned back. “You’ll regret ever being weak enough to allow Remus the chance to be seen as Creativity. It’ll come back to hurt you, and soon. **_Don’t ever think your friends will see the differences between the two of you for long._** And when that happens?” A sinister, slow smile touched Deceit’s face. “Well, we’ll see who comes running to me for help.”

That was it. Roman shoved Deceit out of the way, stricken, and rushed out of the kitchen up to his room again, pushing past a yawning Patton with nothing more than a “morning” in his direction so as to not worry him. No doubt Patton wouldn’t think there was anything wrong with his behaviour – often Roman would rush about the Mindscape and back to his room into the Imagination if he had an idea he had to write down, and then they wouldn’t see him for days at a time, so his behaviour wasn’t odd. Remus also did this, Roman realised with a horror. He was so similar to his brother that it terrified him. Tears swimming in his eyes, he roughly wiped them away as he picked up his list in his room, clenching it tightly in both hands as he stared at the words on the page, hardly seeing them.

Alright. If Remus wanted to take over Creativity then God help him, _so be it._ But Roman would not be forgotten. He wouldn’t be pushed aside, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be compared to Remus anymore.

He had to put his plan into action.


	3. chapter iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman is no longer roman, and the others finally realise it.
> 
> tw: very mild swearing, gross imagery from remus and angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to ‘of perfectionism and pride’ to our third chapter!! woo, I’m getting there!! this fic will probably have about ten chapters, maybe more, as I haven’t made a plan of what I’m going to write in this or how I’ll end it. I’m spontaneous like that ;)  
> I’m super tired, so I hope this came out okay!! Poor Ro, he’s having a really rough time right now, though Virge isn’t doing much better. The next chapter will be from his perspective, which will be fun!!  
> I hope I Wrote Remus alright; this was my first time writing him, and it was fun, though I’m excited to improve my writing of him over time!!  
> As always, please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed!!

Roman’s first task was to distance himself from his family, or rather, the other Light Sides.

His reasoning for this was that if they found out that he was doing, they would try to stop him. Eyes itching with tiredness, he didn’t stop to think that this might be for the best, instead viewing the situation as followed: if he was stopped, he would slowly but surely be forgotten, or worse, seen as the same as Remus. He didn’t want that, not at all, and so distancing himself from the Light Sides was necessary. Besides, his brother was decidedly overly friendly, so this would also tick off one of his new personality traits he needed to fake — apathy, coolness, frostiness. Because hey, he reasoned, fake it until you make it. 

~~ It had nothing to do with the pit Roman would feel in his stomach at treating the others so heartlessly and cruelly, no, nothing at all. ~~

It started when Roman stopped attending family meals. Usually they were mandatory unless a side wasn’t feeling up to it or was busy, but Roman simply shrugged off the others’ confusion and questions with lies and disdain. His meals went from full of life and laughter to a strict order: washing his hands no less than three times (Remus would never wash his hands, after all), conjuring up a meal, eating it alone in his room with whispers filling his ears and poisoning his mind, washing his hands again and vanishing the plate and remnants with a careless flick of his hands. The talk and easy banter from downstairs with his fam— the Light Sides ate a hole in his heart, but Roman filled it with nonchalance and pride instead. It was easier that way.

He didn’t need them. He never had, and he never would again.

Step two came in the form of proper distancing.

“Hey, Princey, are you good?” The question came first, surprisingly, from Virgil, after he’d caught Roman downstairs for the first time in a few days. Roman blinked, his eyes still unused to the brightness of the Mindscape that was so different from the dark red and black colour his room had become recently.

“I’m fine,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. Dramatic was no longer in his repertoire, so Roman instead settled for a cool carelessness. “Why do you ask, Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyebrows drew together, evidently at the lack of nickname and dramatics. “Why do I ask?” He repeated, in disbelief. “Maybe because you’ve been acting fishier than Deceit and Remus put together the past few days. What’s wrong?”

Roman couldn’t quite hide his flinch at the mention of his brother’s name, and Virgil’s face softened as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” he continued, gently, “I get it. You don’t want Remus here. Honestly? Me neither. He’s a Dark Side, but—“

“Hm, like you were?”

The words were harsh, and came out of Roman’s mouth in a purr he didn’t quite recognise as his own voice. Startled, but keeping his face blank, guilt wormed into his heart as he watched Virgil’s face pale, taking a step back and seeming to sink further into his hoodie.

“I— What?”

“We all remember, _Paranoia_ ,” Roman continued, forcing himself to keep speaking despite the guilt and regret gnaming at him. “The fact you’re reformed now means _nothing_. It’s what’s in the past that counts. You’re no better than Deceit and  _him_ .” H e  couldn’t even bring himself to say his brother’s name; it was like poison in his mouth.

“Roman...” Virgil looked hurt, genuinely so, and something twisted in Roman’s stomach. “Why’re you acting like this?! I- I—“

“Save your words for someone who actually cares.” Roman’s tone was cool, icier than he thought he could ever make it. Apathy and a sneering cruelty curdled in his blood, and his vindictive glee made him nauseous at the look on Virgil’s face. “I’m surprised Logan and Patton even let you sit beside them at the table. You should be eating with Deceit and the others. That’s what Dark Sides do.”

And before Virgil could respond, Roman brushed past him smoothly, something deep smoothing the hole that treating Virgil like that had left in his heart. A smile, crooked, found its way onto his face as he strode back up to his room.

The stars in his room above him glittered a jet black, and, gazing up at them thoughtfully, a soft frown marring his face.

Maybe it was time for a costume change. 

“What’s with the change in outfits, kiddo?” Patton asked him tentatively, when Roman next emerged from his room. 

Shooting him a disparaging glance, Roman debated answering him or not. They would all figure it out for themselves sooner or later, so why shouldn’t he be honest with them?

“I figured it was time for a change,” he shrugged, examining his nails, heart hammering to see a speck of dirt under one of them. Swallowing thickly, and pasting back on his ever-present mask of feigned indifference, he cocked his head inquisitively. “Don’t you like it?”

He saw Patton and Logan’s eyes sweep up and down the black outfit with glimmers of gold throughout, lingering on the blood red rose imprinted over his heart. Logan’s gaze was far more curious and probing than Roman liked, whereas Patton’s was more concerned. Roman preferred that: concern was easier to deal with than curiosity. Virgil barely glanced at his outfit, eyes fixed on Roman himself, but when Roman looked to him, the other side looked away quickly, a hard frown fixed on his face. It seemed as if Virgil was catching on something wasn’t quite right about Roman — though, it was far too late for that now.

It had been two weeks since he’d called Virgil by his old name, and Roman had sunk in to his new role easily, much easier than he thought he would. It had been surprising at first, but he soon learned to let all care and unnecessary emotion drain away. Remus was the emotive, excitable one. Roman? All he cared about was himself, and Thomas, of course: making the best content he could would only make him more money and fame than he already had, and really, wasn’t that the goal here?

“While we’re on the subject of change,” he added, boredom in his voice, “I think I’ll be giving up some of my work as Thomas’ Creativity to focus on... other duties.”

Pandemonium broke out. Roman arched a single eyebrow as the three sides talked over one another and babbled amongst themselves. Virgil was the first to quiet, though he didn’t say anything to Roman, not at all. He simply kept his mouth shut and a thin glare of suspicion fixed on him.

“Roman,” Logan began, reason in his voice. “This is all abrupt. Logic suggests that there may be another reason for the changes you’re currently making.”

“Yeah, kiddo, something isn’t right with you,” Patton cut in, his face creased with worry. Normally such a look would have Roman caving, and admitting everything that was wrong, but just then he felt curiously immune to it all. “We just wanna help you! I mean, you are Creativity, you’re kind of an important part of Thomas and his career!” Patton laughed nervously. “I mean, who else is going to fill in for you—“

“I think that would be little ol’ me!”

The voice came from behind him, and Roman recognised it instantly. Pure hatred flooded through him, though it drained away quickly, replaced with a disgust as he turned slowly.

“Remus.”

“Roman,” his brother purred, eyes lighting up as he took in the new outfit. “I gotta say, I’m likin’ the new costume. It makes you look... hm, like a dark side.”

“Don’t say that, it’s not true!” Patton exclaimed, placing a hand protectively on Roman’s shoulder, faltering in dismay as it was shrugged off by Roman with a cold laugh.

“You know he can’t control what comes out his mouth, and that he never lies,” Roman said, calmly. Too calmly. Why couldn’t he feel anything? He was giving up being Thomas’ creativity, surely he should feel some form of emotion, feeling,  something ... But there was an absent hole inside him, a void, and so he found himself feeling nothing much at all. “Perfect for creativity. His ideas are original, and unique, to say the least, not to mention some may actually be of good use for videos.” He waved a hand dismissively. “He’ll learn, with time. I don’t care.”

“Practise makes perfect — so does punishment, with whips and chains,” Remus agreed, with a cheerful wink. Roman wrinkled his nose at the sight of his brother, and resolved to have a few showers to clean himself after this.

“But what if he doesn’t?” Logan quizzed, a hard, analytical look taking over his face.

“I don’t care,” Roman repeated, and he was surprised to find it was true. He didn’t care what happened. “I have more important jobs than worrying about my twin brother.”

“More important jobs?”

“I think what he means,” Virgil cut in for the first time, eyes cool, “is that Creativity isn’t his main job anymore. Right,  _Pride_ ?”

The name sent a thrill of delight down Roman’s back, but instead of showing it, a small smirk just appeared on his lips, amused.

“Looks like _Paranoia’s_ back working full time at his old job,” he replied mockingly, and Virgil’s jaw visibly clenched. “But _bravo_ , Virgil, good show figuring it out. I suppose it’s time I was honest with you.”

“Pride?” Patton questioned, confusion and denial seeping into his tone. “What do you mean? Roman’s Creativity, just like Remus is. That’s the way it’s always been, ever since the split—“

“Something’s happened,” Remus blurted out, and Roman, frowning slightly, turned to face his twin again, who was fixing him with an unusually serious look. “It changed him. Probably for the best, if you asked moi—“

“Shut up!” Virgil hissed, clearly tense. “Roman, what the hell’s gotten into you?”

“I opened my eyes,” Roman told him, airily. “I realised that I’d been neglecting my duties and decided it was high time Thomas took a little more pleasure from his creations. After all, a little pride never hurt anyone.”

“ _Falsehood_ ,” Logan said, folding his arms tightly, and there was a look of sorrow in his eyes. “It’s hurting you. It has been for some time, I believe, and it was... foolish of us, not to catch it.”

“Catch it, like you catch the Black Plague and die horribly in pain and suffering. With pus!” Remus added brightly. Roman resisted the urge to strangle his brother, or at the very least, stab him with his sword. That wouldn’t do. He wasn’t Remus: undignified and unruly, without any care or elegance. He was Pride, Roman, Thomas’ ego, and he was nothing like his brother. Not anymore.

“Roman, kiddo, please,” Patton said, despairingly. “Whatever’s happened, we can fix this! We can help you!”

“I don’t think you can,” Roman said, echoed by Remus. Roman froze, panic clawing at his insides, along with fury. No no no, he wasn’t Remus. He couldn’t be like him, he couldn’t be. Forcing the feelings deep down again, he ignored his brother, and continued speaking, his voice deep and smooth, almost melodic, though the tune was ugly and cruel. “I don’t think I want you to, Pat. Sorry to disappoint.” A smile, faintly entertained, spread wider over his face. “Too long I’ve been cooped up, putting everyone else’s needs before my own. Putting everyone else’s needs before _Thomas_ ’. Well, no more! From all the hard work I’ve been putting in lately, I think Thomas and I deserve a little me time. It’s about time you all started pulling your slack in your roles. God knows I have been.” Realising how harsh his voice had gotten, Roman took a breath, and calmed down. “Really, this is for the best. We don’t need _two_ Remuses roaming about as Creativity. One is enough,” he added, with a disgusted glare at his brother, who grinned back at him carelessly, finger up his nose.

“Roman—“ Virgil began, and he sounded almost pleading, but Roman held up his hand for silence, and was stunned to feel a tug, and Virgil mouth speechlessly. He’d... _taken his voice? How..._

He supposed miserably that being Deceit was better than being Remus.

“Without me, all of you would be nothing,” he told the others, his voice arrogant but certain. “It’s about time I realised my worth, and now? I can help Thomas realise his, too. It’s only fair. A Prince has to share, after all.”

“Don’t do this.” Logan’s tone was flat, but jerky, almost robotic, and his face was still. Patton had tears shining in his eyes, and Virgil looked horrified at his lack of voice. “There is still time for us to help you. You know your issues are solvable. Everything is—“

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” Roman snapped, waving his hand dismissively, and the same odd tug happened. Logan froze mid speech, seemingly realising his voice was gone, and subsiding into silence, though his ever watchful gaze never lingered from Roman’s face. “You think you have it all figured out, huh Logan. You’re not the boss here. Need I remind you who is? It’s _me_. It always has been. Thomas runs a YouTube channel! I should have always been front and centre, not pushed to the back, mocked, cast aside! Like....”

Like _Remus_.

Closing his eyes, and taking a few deep breaths and basking in the silence, Roman squared his shoulders, cocking his head with a crooked smirk.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to move my room far, far away, and you four – particularly you, brother dearest – are going to stay away from me unless absolutely necessary. Frankly, you all bore me. And you’re all below me. I don’t see the point of associating with you or with the Light Sides much longer. I’m my own side. So unless you peasants need anything from me now... Then I’ll be off.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, but he remained still, made no efforts to speak, unlike Virgil, who seemed to actively be trying to get words out. Cocking an eyebrow, Roman relinquished his hold on Virgil’s voice, and the anxious side gasped, coughing once, before speaking.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, voice strained, body hunched. “Did we... did we do something wrong?”

Roman laughed, lightly, and the sound brought a cold shiver into the room.

“Oh honey,” he said silkily, pursing his lips. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just couldn’t do anything right, either.”

And with that, he turned tail, and, giving a wide berth to Remus, disappeared. Even he was aware that he’d simply vanished rather than having sunk out. He just didn’t care enough to be worried about it.

In his room, the darkness ate away at more of his mind, and smiled with razor sharp teeth.


	4. chapter iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which virgil punches a certain snake face, and truths come out.
> 
> tw: deceit (sympathetic), remus (sympathetic), and slightly unsympathetic patton (who feels guilty for his actions). also, violence, as well as a general warning for creepiness from It at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, sorry it’s been so long guys!! Hectic weekend. Anyway, I’m back, and with a chapter from Virgil’s perspective, finally!! I’ve wanted to do one from his side for a while, so let me know if you like it!!  
> I’m also thinking of making this Roceit as endgame. I have a full story planned out now, and the ship will be slow burn while the boys sort their issues out, but what do you think about that? Please lemme know!!  
> As always, leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed!! :D

Virgil Sanders was decidedly _Not Good_ with current events.

He’d been feeling _Not Good_ for a while now, ever since Deceit had made his first appearance, but the feeling had only rose more and more inside him after admitting to being a dark side, and after realising how changed Roman was, and the feeling left a sick taste in his mouth. Seeing Roman today in the little unplanned meeting he’d called only signified more how far gone he was — his posture stiff, tone cold, brown eyes almost ruby red in the odd lighting. All in all, it was very clear how much Roman had changed, and Virgil felt he could only blame himself for not realising it sooner. Wasn’t he supposed to be Pa— Anxiety? The one who picked up when things weren’t right and alerted others to them?

Of course, he didn’t think he alone was to blame for everything. Logan and him were working on his tendencies to feel guilty and deserving of blame for the smallest of things, and Virgil was trying his best. So no, he blamed himself only mostly for not helping Roman soon enough. The other person he blamed? Deceit.

Which was why, when Roman left, Virgil saw red, sunk out into the living room where Deceit was, and punched him in the face.

The smaller side, who had been curled up on the couch watching some lawyer show (seriously, what was it with him and lawyers?) flinched back with a pained hiss, eyes widening with shock. His hands instantly came up to protect his face, and with a guilty flush Virgil remembered how It had used to do the same thing to all of them back before he’d become Light. Lowering his fist, but refusing to back down, he crossed his arms tightly, doing his best to calm his anger.

“Virgil,” Deceit greeted thickly, his nose beginning to drip blood. “This— **_this isn’t at all unexpected_**. What can I do for you? Girl problems?”

Even bleeding and clearly shaken, he managed to remain smooth and suave, and this only set Virgil more on edge. Jaw clenching, he yanked Deceit from his seat by his collar and slammed him into the wall, hard enough that the Dark Side audibly groaned, face briefly fearful before narrowly composing himself again.

“ **What did you do to Roman**?” He snarled, feeling his voice slip into that terrible tempest tongue he tried so hard not to use unless it was an emergency. He supposed this qualified. “What did you do to him?!”

Deceit had the gall to look surprised, as Patton and Logan rose into the room, and even dared to blurt out a “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Lying to him? Virgil’s temper rose, heightening drastically, before Logan pulled him away, face firm, though his eyes were churning full of emotions that Virgil couldn’t quite identify. That helped calm him down a little.

“Virgil, you do _not_ hit Deceit,” Logan said, sternly. “It’s wrong of you to do that— you have to keep your anger under control.”

“He did something to Roman!” Virgil snapped, in no mood for Logan’s logic. “Spare me the lecture. He hurt Roman, and he needs to answer for it!”

“You don’t necessarily know that to be true.” Logan barely reacted to Virgil’s anger, something that made him begin to calm, little by little. “We don’t have all the facts yet. We should speak to him, rather than assault him, don’t you think?”

“How do you know he won’t lie?”

“I... I won’t lie.”

Virgil spun to look at Deceit, who had collapsed on the chair closest to him, looking small, and very, very tired all of a sudden. He looked nothing like his exuberant and confident best friend of the past, nor like the smirking cruel villain he’d come to view him as. He looked almost vulnerable. Beside him, Virgil saw Logan arch an eyebrow, and could feel Patton’s concerned confusion. He felt safer, more stable, with the other two beside him, less liable to snap. Looking at Deceit now, the way red marks had already started to blossom on his face and neck from where he’d grabbed him, Virgil began to feel crushing guilt.

God damnit, and he called himself a Light Side now.

“I really don’t know what you mean about Roman,” Deceit said, keeping his eyes fixed warily on Virgil. “I don’t know what happened to him. I’ve been working overtime with the wedding coming up, to help Thomas and Roman with missing the callback for the audition. The only contact I’ve directly had with Roman recently was a few weeks ago. It was—“ he took a sharp, raw breath in, face grimacing. “Roman offered that I eat with you all at breakfast. I.... **_panicked_**. I lashed out and told him that— that he was like Remus, and that he wasn’t important.”

Virgil’s fury flared again, but Patton placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he forced himself to calm down. This wasn’t going to get him anywhere, being this angry. He couldn’t help Roman if he was too furious to speak.

“Then he rushed off,” Deceit finished, subdued. “It wasn’t my intention to do anything to him: he caught me off guard, and without lying, I meant to speak to him about my behaviour.” He grimaced, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did towards him. If he is upset about that, I would... like to apologise.”

“It’s a little too late for that now.” Virgil couldn’t help himself, his voice cracking with strain and sorrow he didn’t realise he was feeling until just then. “He’s gone.”

Deceit blinked once, then twice.

“What do you mean, gone?” He asked, frowning.

Virgil wished he knew. It didn’t feel like so long ago when he knew more than he did now, when he had so much knowledge of Thomas and of the other Sides... Now? It felt like he didn’t know anything about any of them.

“He means,” a drawling voice cut in, “that brother dearest has handed over his creative responsibilities to moi. I would’ve preferred him handing over his sword so I could stab him with it again and again—“

“Remus,” Virgil hissed, trying his very best to keep from punching his other old friend too, “can’t you shut up for a minute?”

“What, like you all had Roman shut up and keep his ideas to himself?” Remus chirped, looking nonchalant as usual, but there was a serious, more determined look in his eyes when he spoke. A punch of guilt hit Virgil, and it was all he could do not to double over with the pain of it. Patton let out a small distressed sound, and even Logan visibly winced at the reminder.

“Don’t think I don’t know,” the creative side continued, and it was almost playful, tilting his head to the side and surveying them. “I share a room with Roro, and although I can’t hear his thoughts anymore, thanks to a certain someone’s meddling—“

Virgil glances briefly to Patton, who had the good grace to look ashamed.

“— it’s pretty obvious when you enter his side of the room. The crumpled pieces of paper with ideas smeared over them? The shattered vase on his desk? The only tidy thing in _his_ side of the room is a list he keeps on his desk at all times. It’s a list of every idea he’s ever had and how it’s failed your inspections. Hah — and Virgie thought he was the only emo around here!”

Remus broke off into a laugh, wildly, but Virgil hardly registered it. The sound seemed to come from an age away, distant and faint. In his ears, there was buzzing, almost static in sound. _How could they have missed this?_ Sure, Roman had never allowed any of them into his room, but he’d always claimed Remus would find out and disrupt the peace. He said the only time he spent in his room was in the Imagination. Clearly that had been a lie.

He wondered what else of Roman’s had been a lie. He was an actor, after all.

“Remus, I’m sure you think you’re being helpful, but you’re not,” Logan told him coolly, and there was a frosty glitter in his eyes that told Virgil he was missing the control Roman used to have over his brother just as much as he was. “We need your assistance in getting Roman back, you understand?”

“Yeah, kiddo!” Patton agreed brightly, but there was hesitation around the nickname, and Remus looked exceedingly startled at it. “Don’t you want Roman to be safe? He’s worrying all of us!”

“Why would I?”

Virgil turned away. He’d been afraid that would be the answer.

“What?” Patton asked, clearly taken aback. From the corner of his eye, Virgil could see that even Deceit looked surprised.

“Why _would_ I?” Remus repeated slowly, as if he was speaking to a small child. There was a lucidity to him that he hadn’t had in years, and Virgil could hear it even in his voice. “The more my baby bro goes off the rails, the more I get screen time, and the more time I get being listened to. It wasn’t just _your_ Creativity you were ignoring, you know! None of you know what it’s like. To be split. To be ignored. To be pushed aside for the sake of your brother. To be... **_stifled_**.”

Hardness entered his voice, and Virgil closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t want to see this, but it was necessary. A small part of him held out hope that maybe, maybe, if Remus ranted, he’d finally decide to help — but it was a small thought. He turned to face his old friend, working to keep his face impassive.

“I thought I was fading away, sometimes!” The Duke declared cheerfully. “I’m a big fan of all things dark and stabby, but that really hurt, y’know. I blame Patton the most, obviously, but Deceit and Roman also played a part! And that’s why I’m not helping.” The icy tone was suddenly shown in his face, though anger simmered just below the surface. “I deserve this. Let him be dramatic! Besides, it’s not as if you don’t have anyone fulfilling his job now. I can do that.”

“Remus...” Deceit muttered, almost warningly, but it was clear he had no power over Remus. Not anymore. 

“Oh hush, Snake Face, I’m just taking back the years I missed!” Remus laughed, sauntering over and checking out his face despite Deceit’s hiss of pain when he grabbed it, none too gently. “Oh man, Virge really did a number on you. He should’ve gone harder. Harder and harder til he was smashing your skull in—“

“If you’re not going to be of any assistance,” Logan said, though it was through gritted teeth, “then I would ask you to remove yourself from the situation so I can calm Virgil down. There is no more need for your input.”

“If you insist,” Remus grinned, showing too many teeth, “catch y’all later.”

And with that, he disappeared, though the last sight Virgil caught of him was the darker side half ducked out, expression startled and almost frightened as he vanished. The face he’d made filled Virgil with panic — he didn’t think he’d ever seen Remus look anything other than (terribly) cheerful. Something must really be wrong with Roman if he was disturbed.

“Will someone **_not_** tell me what’s going on?” Deceit demanded, only to flinch ever so slightly when Virgil whirled on him, eyes flashing. Logan, snapping out of a reverie, grabbed Virgil’s wrist warningly, to which Virgil had to stop himself from snapping at his friend. No, that wouldn’t do at all. He had to control himself.

“Please do your best to stop lying to us, Deceit, though I do understand it’s in your name,” Logan said, and Virgil wondered how he could remain so calm when speaking to someone so infuriating. “I understand you’re also Self Preservation, on top of being Thomas’ Deceit, am I correct?”

Deceit didn’t bother responding verbally, only nodding shortly.

“Perfect. Then you will have no objections that in the sake of Thomas’ best interests, you will help us.” Logan almost smiled, though the look was cold, and Virgil didn’t doubt he wasn’t asking for the Dark Side’s help. Deceit didn’t either, a grouchy expression briefly slipping over his face, before sighing.

“Fine,” he responded curtly, and Virgil noted with some relief that the blood had stopped dripping down his face. “I’ll do what I can. I can only imagine he’ll want to see me soon. I’m sure he knows right now I’m his greatest ally.”

“Ally?” Patton asked, curiously. “How? If you were the one that made him like this?”

Virgil couldn’t help but ask the same question internally.

“Because you’re missing one vital piece of information,” Deceit said, patiently. “Roman doesn’t think he is in the wrong for feeling this way. He wants to be like this with his current thinking, from what I understand. He’ll want to thank me. Besides — as he understands it, Dark Sides have to stick together. Also,” he added as an afterthought, looking more than a little hurt, “I don’t think that I was the sole cause of this. There must have been something else. Something... something we’re missing.”

“Like what?” Virgil found himself asking, stepping closer in genuine interest. He wracked his brains, doing his best to think of anything they hadn’t taken into account, anything they’d missed...

“I don’t know.” Deceit rolled his eyes, and despite himself, Virgil found his lips briefly quirking in amusement at the familiar sign of frustration on the other side. “That’s why we’re missing it. If we knew what it was, this would all be easier.”

“Well then.” Logan adjusted his glasses, and shot them a quizzical smile. “Don’t you think it’s about time we start discovering just what that missing piece is?”

Virgil felt a shiver of dread course through him at that, unexpected, and swallowed back a lump of nausea. A flicker of a flame lit in his mind, orange in colour, drenched in nothing but evil.

Suddenly, he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was they were missing.

“We have to tell Thomas about **It** ,” he said, and found four pairs of eyes on him, all studying him intently with shock.

A fifth pair watched from the shadows, lit with the same orange glimmer in Virgil’s mind, and It’s lips pulled down into a grimace of annoyance.

It seemed that the shadowling would have to go. 

_Pity_. It had always been fond of Virgil.


End file.
